


Taken Into Night (AU Ending to "Taken By the Dark")

by Darth_Nonie



Series: The Taken AUs [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Dark, M/M, Slash, Unhealthy Relationships, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-07-29
Updated: 1999-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:15:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2235357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darth_Nonie/pseuds/Darth_Nonie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Note: This is an AU ending to my *previous* AU.</p><p>In "Taken by the Dark," Qui-Gon hid his plan even from himself, and Darth Maul was satisfied with his own dominance and the savor of Qui-Gon's pain rather than choosing, as his master would have, to look deeper. What if Qui-Gon had failed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Taken Into Night 

(A Further AU Ending to "Taken By the Dark")

  


"The--the boy," Qui-Gon gasped, the taste of Maul's blood bittersweet on his tongue. "My padawan. Please, let him go now. You know I am yours."

The Sith laughed quietly against him. "You cannot truly believe you have saved him."

"Y-you promised you would not harm him."

"I won't," Maul said softly and drew back to meet his eyes as the deadly words drove home. "You will."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes in a futile attempt to avoid the images the Sith's words brought him, but Maul would not let his prey escape so easily, and his will stalked down through Qui-Gon's mind to devour the rich taste of his pain.

Panicking, Qui-Gon tried desperately to keep his inner thoughts his own, but he could not help but feel the very strength of his resistance catch Maul's attention and draw the hunter on. Like a stooping hawk, the dark mind struck swift and deep

"Aaaaaaahhh," the Sith said in soft and deadly pleasure. "You lied to me. A Jedi master--lied. You have broken our oaths; you have planned to betray me from the beginning."

"No--" Qui-Gon protested, his voice raw. "I have only been--prepared for **your** betrayal. You are a Sith; Darth Khsssah broke his oaths, and I knew you would as well."

"Have I?" The unyielding lips drifted along the vein below his jaw and nuzzled the swollen wounds lovingly. The next words were not even spoken aloud: **_You made a false bargain with me, Jedi. You are the oathbreaker here._**

"No! I--" Sickened, Qui-Gon knew the depths of his own pride when he realized he had let himself be distracted by the argument, as if the Sith's accusation were more important than his student's life.

He grabbed frantically for the saber hilt on Maul's belt, but even before the gloved hand closed on his own, he felt the gloating mind lock the weapon's power against any intrusion. And the fire-hot eyes devoured his soul even as the dark laughter burned deep in him and the Sith's lips moved in a mocking kiss, and another, before the sharp teeth slid delicately into the vein.

Worse than the pain, worse even than the pleasure, was the knowledge that his own weakness defeated him. If he truly trusted in himself, and in the Force, even now there might have been a way. But his shame and the unspeakable pleasure of this death betrayed him, and the darkness took him.


	2. Chapter 2

_\--time had been severed and dusty on the floor for hours and young Obi-Wan thought he saw something move but he was not going to look at it because he wanted it to go away and not distract him from this wall he was staring at because the wall was hardly scary at all and if he stared at it hard enough he could keep trying not to see things, bad things, things he hadn't wanted to see and didn't want to see now, didn't want to see them over and over and over in his head until if he was paying attention it would be really horrible and after all if he could only hold still long enough maybe everything would stop moving and go away and he wouldn't be afraid any more--_

**Cold.**

_\--and his eyes hurt and he didn't know why but he wished they'd stop blurring because that made it too easy to see the bad things again instead of the nice blank wall at least his stinging eyes didn't hurt as much as his scalp but then the pain was an anchor like his braid which he'd tangled in his hand as if it were a rope that could lead him back to the time before the bad things happened but his hand hurt being clenched that tight until it just went numb and he wished everything else would go numb too--_

**So cold.**

_\--and his neck hurt no don't think about necks don't think about his neck don't think about watching the dark one hurt him master please no don't let him hurt you master don't let him hurt me you said you'd protect me no DON'T--_

**So very, very cold.**

_\--this nice blank wall wouldn't hurt him and he wished he could make everything else blank and stop seeing the bad things NO! just the wall the nice wall nothing was going to hurt him while he kept his eyes on the wall and didn't think about about about the things he wasn't going to think about--_

**He remembered being cold. He remembered a cold kiss.**

_\--stop seeing bad things no just the wall and if he stared hard enough at the wall everything else would stop moving and be nice and blank like the wall--_

**He remembered Darth Khsssah.**

_\--yes the nice wall he liked the wall it was safe and it didn't move--_

**He remembered Darth Maul.**

_\--time didn't happen while he kept his eyes on the wall and nothing could move if time didn't move so things could just be safe and still and he didn't have to see the bad things in his head again because everything was numb--_

**He remembered who he was.**

_\--the wall--_

**He remembered everything.**

_\--the wall wouldn't hurt him--_

**But he was cold, knifebonemarrowcold.**

_\--the wall--_

**He needed the living fire.**

He opened his eyes.

***

For a moment, disoriented by triple vision, Qui-Gon thought he had woken in the snow, but then as he moved, the hair fell away from his face and he realized that he carried the cold within him. He lay in the storeroom still, though the stains on the floor were now long dry and Maul was gone.

Obi-Wan! Where was his padawan?

Then he caught a disturbingly toneless thought ( ** _the wall_** ) and realized that they were still linked. And looking up, he saw the huddled form of his beloved student.

As he began to crawl, he saw that bleak young face tighten even farther, that hand begin to shake until only the braid tangled in Obi-Wan's fingers seemed to keep it from coming apart. But those blue eyes stared unseeing at the wall and would not turn to him. 

Qui-Gon could not focus himself, somehow. _Ah, no--Damn you, boy, is this what I trained you to be?--O my beloved, I grieve--What has he done to you, did he touch you again I'll kill him for touching you you're MINE--_

Out of the cacophony of his own mind, he drew himself back to his training. "Obi-Wan," he said gently, as he had said at the end of many exercises, "It's over now. Let it go, and find your center." And as he often had, he rested one hand gently on his student's shoulder.

For a moment, those young eyes met his with relief and the trust they had always shared. And then, like a mirror breaking, his mind was overwhelmed with his padawan's fears.

**_My master but so pale, not alive! Even his hair turned now, turned white, his eyes like cold, cold death--O Gods not death, don't think of death, don't think of that gloating snarl lifting from your master's neck, so still, teeth red now with his blood--But better death than--than that, than the sight of his master being, being taken, mouth and throat and mind and soul violated by the Sith, and Qui-Gon consenting--O Gods seeing that, he couldn't stop seeing that, his master submitting to everything to save him and it wasn't enough, surely he was damned forever--_ **

Qui-Gon could not stop the torrent of his student's fears, and then-- _O Bright Gods, no!_ \--his own thoughts were unshielded too and he knew that Obi-Wan could feel it all now, feel everything Qui-Gon felt and did and was done to him, feel Maul taking him--and Qui-Gon could feel how Obi-Wan was both horrified and aroused, and Obi-Wan could feel his shock and hunger, and he could feel--

It was too much. "Enough," he snapped, and without his willing it he felt his hand crack against his padawan's face.

Startled, those eyes looked at him and not at the past, and even as Qui-Gon saw them fill with tears, Obi-Wan's mind drew in on itself and a merciful silence fell between them.

"Good," Qui-Gon made himself say calmly. "Excellent focus. Concentrate on your shields; I think we have need of them."

And himself, he drew on what little strength he could find to build his own walls, setting a distance between himself and his stricken padawan and that coal-hot presence waiting at the edges of their minds to devour all their pain and shame.


	3. Chapter 3

_So. Focus._

_Be here and now._

_See the storeroom around you, your student still huddled in both your robes, his hand still clenched too tightly on his braid._

Qui-Gon reached out to rest his fingers on that shaking hand, trying to ignore the burning warmth that called to him. "Enough, my son. Open your hand now. You have been in shock, but it is over. Let it go."

And stiffly those fingers uncurled one by one, and even as Qui-Gon gently pulled the braid free of the loosening grip, Obi-Wan's hand moved to brush against his own.

**_So cold!_** \--the thought seared through their bond for a moment, and Qui-Gon's involuntary echo-- _So warm_ \--and then Obi-Wan rebuilt his shields once more. "I'm sorry, master," he said quietly. "I--I have failed you again. I--you did not train me to surrender, to let fear rule me. I f-fear I still have much to learn."

Grateful, Qui-Gon let his student draw him back to mastery. "No, Obi-Wan, you have done well. You live, and are sane. That you did nothing is not your fault; remember that I bound you to it, bound you to stillness and silence for your own safety."

He watched approvingly as Obi-Wan stretched long-held muscles and settled into a pose of formal rest, like a student watching his teacher demonstrate a new maneuver.

"Have you found your balance, padawan? Good. Hold your center. I must ask you this: where is Maul? Did he say anything, do anything, after--before he left?"

For a moment, Obi-Wan's face was torn with horror and longing, but then his training held true. "Master Qui-Gon. I--Maul--He smiled at me with wet red teeth and let your body fall. And he came over to--to where I lay, and he lifted my chin with one gloved hand and I thought he was going to kill me too."

The boy swallowed. "But instead, he just kissed me--opened my mouth with his own and made me taste your lifeblood on his lips. O Gods--" he broke off and closed his eyes for a minute until he could continue. "He said, 'Don't be afraid; I promised your master I would not be the one to hurt you.' But there was such cruel pleasure in his eyes...."

Obi-Wan met his master's eyes in shame. "And then he said, mocking, 'Forgive me; I have a package to wrap for my master.' And--and I couldn't make myself move as he walked out and I heard his blade sear through the door controls. I was lost, and you were--gone, and I couldn't make myself move at all."

Qui-Gon tested the door and found it indeed sealed against them. Normally, they could have worked together to free it with the power of the Force, but now, even the thought of opening his mind weakened the shields between them and brought back the storm. Shaking, he forced the gates of his mind shut again and leaned his head against the door in despair.

***

He realized at once that it had been a mistake to surrender his momentum. Leaning here, eyes shut, he could sense his student's living force like an autumn bonfire in the chill mists of Dol Yardir. And in himself, the black abyss that would swallow him and anyone he touched, whether he embraced it or fought against it with all his soul.

So. Not only had he failed to save his student, but he endangered the young man now by his very existence. How long could he bear this, the raw hunger for life and light, this need that would devour all he loved?

Very well. He had made this decision once; surely he was not too tainted to make it again.

"Obi-Wan," he said, as he turned to face his padawan one more time.

Those blue eyes met his with a desperate trust. "Master?"

"Padawan--my son, you must be strong. Center yourself and remember that you are Jedi."

Obi-Wan drew a deep breath and let his body relax into readiness. "Yes, master."

"Good. Now, keeping your shields firm against the darkness, draw into yourself the living Force until you hold it like a weapon in your hand."

The young Jedi struggled to obey, but Qui-Gon could feel the irregular surge of power through the damaged disciplines of his padawan's mind. Again and again Obi-Wan sought to hold himself steady, but the Force flared and skewed in his hands like wild lightning, here and gone and here again, lashing and grounding itself without control. It hurt Qui-Gon's heart to feel his student yield to the chaos, surrendering another fragment of self to bind the storm to him. But it was done.

"Are you ready?" Qui-Gon asked quietly as he had in a thousand practice sessions, knowing that the very familiarity would increase the mastery he held over his padawan.

"Yes, master." 

"Very well." And even through his growing tension, he spared a smile of approval for the younger man. "Draw the power between your hands until it answers to your need. And then, without hesitation, kill me."

***

And then he knew that he had pushed too hard.

Obi-Wan's face broke, and with a cry of rejection the boy lost control of the surging power he held. Jagged bolts of blue-white force tore through them both, lashing between them in savage fury, and even through the unspeakable pain Qui-Gon could hear himself scream. Obi-Wan too was screaming, his face convulsed in shock and agony, until a final spasm locked all his body in a rictus of pain and he fell forward in the sudden silence into his master's arms.

For a moment, Qui-Gon could do nothing but shake, holding his padawan tightly like a shield against the wild forces that had struck them both. And then the cold fear took him. _O Gods, is he even breathing?_

And in mindless terror and rage, he slapped the boy's face and then again and found he could not stop.

"You reckless fool!" he heard his own voice snarl. "You undisciplined weakling, is this your obedience? Gods, Obi-chaya, are you all right? Why couldn't you just kill me and be done? O Gods, Gods, I fear for you, beloved. You stupid child--"

Even the sight of his student's eyes opening was not enough to bring him to himself, until that young hand drifted upwards to touch his cheek. "Master?" Young Obi-Wan's voice was almost soundless, but his desperate relief was unmistakable.

"Ah, Gods, Obi-Wan, I thought I'd lost you." And for an endless moment he hugged his padawan to him as if no shadow had ever touched them.

How could he have pushed his apprentice so far, straining an already wounded boy to such a breaking point? How could he have driven the son of his heart to these hot tears that spilled against his shoulder like life's blood, this storm of sobbing that moved against him like passion, this dark pain that was pleasure and hunger and need and all he had to do was reach out and take it for his own--

In horror, he realized that he was aroused.

And so was Obi-Wan.


	4. Chapter 4

He set the boy aside gently.

Or tried. But the same sudden storms of feeling that tore his speech into shreds of rage and grief and love made his responses as uncontrollable as Obi-Wan's power. 

Even as he pushed Obi-Wan away softly with a hand against that warm and living chest, his own body leaned in and in until he had backed the boy against the wall. His very bones ached to move that last small distance, to hold his apprentice close and take all pain and fear from him--take it and taste it and feed all his dark hungers on it--

No.

He would not do this. He would not.

"Padawan, Pad-chaya--I am so sorry. I wish there was a way to spare you this. But you **must** kill me. I would destroy you and my own soul, and no innocent like the Queen or young Anakin would be safe from us. Please, beloved. You must stop me. You must."

Those young eyes closed, and Obi-Wan's head drooped for a moment like a weary child's. But then the boy drew a long and shaky breath, and even as his eyes opened to meet his master's squarely, his shoulders straightened with resolve.

"Master Qui-Gon--No." And the voice was no boy's but a man's, with a depth of mind behind it.

"Obi-Wan--"

"No." And now it was the young man's turn to be gentle. "I am sorry, Master, but I cannot. Nor can I let you kill yourself."

Qui-Gon could only stare at him.

"Master, you must think. If--if I could step out that door and find myself in our temple at Yoda's feet, fully healed of... of Maul's touch, perhaps you would be right. Though even then, I think I would choose to stay with you."

And now he reached out to touch Qui-Gon's arm, as if to make sure he was being heard. "But Master, we do not have that choice. If I kill you, what then? I am alone and helpless when Maul returns; I cannot even want to fight him; I have no strength to aid young Ani or the Queen; the Council learns nothing, and the Sith have won."

"Obi-Wan--"

"Master, I need you. Even--even now, even as you are. I need your wisdom and your strength. I need your love, however dark, to stand between me and the Sith's power."

Qui-Gon forced himself to look away, half drawn to agree with his student, half driven to break that stubborn maturity and teach the boy to obey. "My padawan, you are worthy of your knighthood. You do not need me."

"But I do, master. You--I don't know why Maul's kiss has taken us so differently, waking your strength and rage while it makes me want only to surrender, to be taken and claimed and give up all my will forever."

"No! Oh, Obi-Wan..." He could feel the dark storm rising again, the warring needs to take this young man NOW, and to protect him, and to kill Darth Maul for having dared to touch him. But this time he would not yield. 

_Think. Focus on the problem with your mind, not your heart._

"It could be," he made himself say calmly, "a matter of Maul's blood. He--made you his own, enslaved you, and you cannot truly even will yourself to be free. But he fed me from his own veins and made me a hunter like himself."

_Gods, no, don't remember the rich dark taste of him, don't remember how it made you thirst for more--_

"Master--"

"Obi-Wan, I cannot. I cannot do this. I am lost, and I cannot help you. I can only destroy. And I do not want to hurt you." _O Gods yes I do, I want I need to hurt you kill you make you mine bury myself in your body and your throat and devour you utterly so that we are truly one--_

And that warm and living hand came up to rest gentle fingers on his lips.

The feel of it was both soothing and maddening, and he could not keep himself from brushing his mouth against that hand in a helpless caress that grew to a demanding need. He could not live without the feel of that flesh against his lips, his teeth--

"Obi-Wan!" The desperate plea tore from him. "No--"

"Yes, Master." And though the words were calm, he could see his student's terrible fear as the young man leaned in, and the more terrible pleasure behind his padawan's eyes.

He had not moved--had he? But that warm body was shaking against him, that fair head thrown back against the wall as if to retreat farther even as those young arms reached for him.

_Cold he was so cold he needed the living fire--_

And then at last O Gods he felt bare skin burning against his own, his arms finding their own way around that beloved body even as the warm robes encircled them both and he tightened his grip in desperation as he broke the boy's lips bloody under his own--

Obi-Wan was sobbing now in desire and agony, fighting helplessly against what he had sought, pinned between a Sith's body and the unyielding wall and so hard even as Qui-Gon's starving mouth found his neck at last.

_YES! Fight me, beloved; struggle against me as I tear your flesh and drown all the world in the taste of your blood. Give me--give me NOW and all and everything and you do not need to give because I take-- Don't you dare fight me you are MINE and the taste of Maul's kiss on you makes me drunk yet maddens me past bearing--_

And then most horrible of all he knew Maul was there, in their minds, devouring. The Sith drank it all, this unbearable rage and fire, Qui-Gon's hunger and shame and the feel of Obi-Wan's body driving against his own-- The taste of Obi-Wan's blood and the young man's spiraling agony and terror and frantic need--

Qui-Gon screamed his rage at Maul's intrusion, and the utter wrongness of it drove him over the edge and battered at him as he battered Obi-Wan against the wall and claimed his despairing pleasure for his own-- Wanting needing MORE even as he could not bear it, could not survive the tearing sick pleasure that struck through them all again and again like a blade of fire.

***

It was only Obi-Wan's weakness that ended it. Qui-Gon felt his consciousness flare suddenly and be eclipsed, and the shift of forces was enough that he could break free.

Cradling the young man's suddenly boneless form, Qui-Gon turned his shoulder to the wall and let them slide downward to the floor. Still shaking, he held Obi-Wan to him and tried to shut Darth Maul's mind away from them. But now that he could think, he knew there was a blankness there, another mind that had been shielded from them.

And it was only then that he realized they were not alone.


	5. Chapter 5

Like a blow to the face, the sight of the Sith's powerful black-clad figure jolted him from his thoughts. Darth Maul stood just inside the doorway, only the deadly pleasure in his eyes revealing his glutted satisfaction. In one hand, he held the lightsaber he must have used to cut through the damaged lock. How long ago?

And in the other arm, young Anakin sat, held upright against the heat of Maul's chest and wrapped in the black folds of his outer robe, warm enough at last.

But the child's eyes were cold.

"You see, my new Young Master?" Maul let his saber fade and returned it to his belt. "These are the Jedi who took you from your mother. For the noblest of reasons, of course. Look at them!"

Qui-Gon caught his breath to protest, but the black-gloved hand tightened subtly and his voice clotted in his throat.

The young voice was outraged. "He was--He was making him do sex. Like those men who hurt my mother!"

"Oh, yes. And see how badly he has hurt him." Maul drew a gleaming cylinder from his inner robes, and his power sent it spinning to smash against Qui-Gon's face. "You, Jedi! Don't you think you have done him enough harm? Take care of him."

Qui-Gon wanted nothing more than to tear Maul apart, to shake the child until he listened and understood. Or just to let go, fall into the black depths until he felt nothing, nothing at all. But his padawan was hurt and needed him.

He lifted the medical tube to seal the torn flesh of the young man's throat and refresh his blood. At last those blue eyes flickered open and saw him. A tremor shook Obi-Wan's face, and only Qui-Gon was close enough to see those eyes brighten into the faintest of smiles.

"Well, Young Master," Maul said, "What shall I do with them? Kill the older one now, or keep them to be your slaves?"

The boy's head tilted and then his mouth set in a stubborn line. "They wouldn't rescue my mother," he said. "Neither of them cared. They deserve to be slaves."

"And so they shall." Maul's voice was decisive. "We must go now, Young Master, to meet your new teacher. And together we will help you free your mother and hurt all those who have ever harmed her.

"But for now, my shuttle will only hold the two of us. Let us go, and I will summon guards to hold these two until we send for them. Do you have anything you wish to say to them before we go?" 

And Maul moved close enough that Qui-Gon could see the child was unharmed, no wounds on that soft young throat whose innocent pulse stirred the faint down of hair on that untouched skin. Horribly, he knew his own hunger.

And then he met those contemptuous young eyes and knew the boy had seen. 

Shame choked him more firmly than even Maul's control as Anakin gathered breath to speak. Eyes down, Qui-Gon waited for the words that would destroy him, but the child said nothing.

Instead, he spat.

"Well done, Young Master," Darth Maul said, and they turned away. Feeling the wetness on his bowed head, Qui-Gon sat unmoving as the door closed behind them and the echo of those bootsteps faded away.


	6. Chapter 6

"Here you are, Master Anakin." Maul closed the simulator helmet around the eager boy's head, resting one gloved hand briefly on the small shoulder before him. With both eyes and mind, he could see that the child was caught up entirely in the delight of learning the new ship's controls. Maul should have at least an hour before young Anakin surfaced again.

Passing his hand over his own console, Maul bowed his head in respect as the hooded countenance of Darth Sidious glowed above the panel in front of him. "Master."

"What news, my apprentice?" The snake-dry husk of a voice aroused him as it always had.

"Master, it is done. I have the boy, and he is eager for your teaching. We come."

"Good, good." He could almost see the teeth in his master's smile. "And the others?"

Maul bared his own jagged grin. "It is done. The teacher is Sith now, though he fights it well. And he has claimed his apprentice completely. Such sweet tears; one can almost taste them."

Even across the vastness of space, he thought he could feel the touch of his master's pleasure. "And your decision?"

"As we discussed, Master. I left them where they can easily escape. Such a triumph, Master! They shall carry the dark taint in among their own like a plague ship.

"Whether the Jedi welcome them with compassion and are drawn in by their own sympathy, or destroy them for the greater good and thus come to doubt themselves; whether the teacher kills his student and thus makes them all party to murder, or kills himself and the others are poisoned by his despair, none of them will ever be free of it. Ah, Dark Gods, to see Yoda's tears if he must kill his own--"

His master's smile widened beneath his masking hood. "Well done. Well done! I wonder if these two will ever know what a weapon we have made of them?”

***

It was Obi-Wan’s voice that pulled Qui-Gon from his shame. “Master!”

He felt the warm and living hand close on his own.

“Master, they’re gone. You have to get us out of here!”

Qui-Gon raised his head. Obi-wan’s urgent trust woke his own strength, and he knew then that his student needed more from him than a broken Jedi master could ever give. But as a Sith, he realized with a sudden dark pride, he was not helpless but powerful. 

He held his student to him for one sweet heated moment and then set him aside, knowing a bladed pleasure even in the pain of this slight separation. Confidently, he dressed himself in the clothes and boots he had laid aside at Maul’s command, leaving only his own outer robe to wrap his padawan in warmth.

The young man weighed nothing in his arms and everything in his heart. The resealed door lock broke under his will as if there were no obstruction, and for the moment the corridor outside was empty.

“Darth Maul is a fool,” he breathed to his student as he strode through the halls like a hungry shadow. “Now we can bring the Jedi our own strength as a weapon in their hands. From us they can learn about the Sith at last and find a way to destroy them forever.”

He felt his own triumph echoed as Obi-Wan’s faint smile answered his own.

“Surely the Council can free us of this bond to him. Gods, to see those eyes falter when we move against him at last.” 

His shadowed smile widening, Qui-Gon added, “I wonder if he will ever know what a weapon he has made of us?”

\--- END ---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there will be at least a partial Taken III ("Taken Away") posted soon - it's ONE possible sequel to this Taken II.
> 
> But since it's a WiP I haven't touched in twelve years, I'm gonna see if I can do a little more work on it before I post it here.


End file.
